


And Love Is Fire

by the_rck



Series: All the Faces We Were [3]
Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Ethical Dilemmas, Kidnapping, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Will thought that Warren was acting a little off, but Will also knew he wasn’t really good with people. He could be generically inspirational, but he often missed nuance. He was working on that, though, and had been since Royal Pain.Warren acted, Will thought, like one of the three of them was dying. As if this might be the last time they had together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is an episode of non-explicit vomiting in here.
> 
> Title from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet X in Sonnets from the Portuguese.
> 
> Thanks to Elizabeth_Culmer for beta reading.

Will’s parents’ cabin was beyond isolated. It could only have been built by people willing to airlift everything in. It wasn’t a base or a lair or anything similar, just a place where they and their friends could relax and not worry about who might see them use their powers in their civilian identities. The Stronghold family owned the land, but many of their friends used the place. Visits were scheduled down to the day most of the time.

And ‘cabin’ was possibly a misnomer. It had started out that way, back in Will’s grandfather’s day, but every year someone added technology or rooms or something fun, so the place had become kind of sprawling even before Will’s earliest memories. By the time he was a teenager, most of it was below ground.

Warren had somehow finagled things to get three consecutive weeks at the cabin for him and Will to support Layla through the final marathon of writing her dissertation. Warren said that he and Will needed to be there to make sure she ate and slept and that she needed the isolation because she was likely to get distracted.

Will was pretty sure that his parents-- well, his mother anyway-- assumed there would be a lot of soaking in the hot tub and other more intimate activities that maybe parents shouldn’t think too much about. Will was hoping for a bit of that, too, but he’d been around other people working on dissertations, and he wasn’t entirely optimistic. He and Warren were likely to see a lot more of each other than either did of Layla.

At least Layla didn’t object to them fooling around without her. She just liked them to tell her stories about it later to help set the mood.

Will thought that Warren was acting a little off, but Will also knew he wasn’t really good with people. He could be generically inspirational, but he often missed nuance. He was working on that, though, and had been since Royal Pain.

Warren acted, Will thought, like one of the three of them was dying. As if this might be the last time they had together. Except that he wasn’t really willing to go beyond cuddling, not even when Layla was there. Will couldn’t figure it out

Layla probably would have noticed that, too, and might have known what was wrong, but she really was deep in her writing. She’d said that she planned to finish as fast as possible in order to have more time to relax after. Not that she would. She’d be on edge until she got comments back from her advisor.

Hell, she’d been on edge since she applied to the program. Will didn’t figure it would stop until she was sure no one would snatch the opportunity from her. She was going to be Dr Williams and change the world.

Will’s mother had helped ferry in supplies for the three of them. Will appreciated her help because it cut the time required considerably. Her being able to fly also meant that there was someone he trusted available fast if they needed help. He didn’t expect to, but he and Warren had made enemies already, and some villains did know where the cabin was. Some of the villains with the right family connections, the ones who weren’t _too_ terrible, even used the cabin themselves.

The third evening, Warren made dinner. He often cooked for them because he’d had more practice than Will ever had. Will could mostly cook from very detailed recipes; Warren could improvise.

The menu that night had a lot of Will’s favorites. Well, the favorites that were vegetarian enough for Layla. Will and Warren only ate meat when she wasn’t around. The food was amazing, which kind of worried Will in the Warren-thinks-one-of-us-is-dying way-- especially since, given the menu, Will was pretty sure that he was the one Warren thought was dying. If it was Warren, there’d have been some of Layla’s favorites. If it was Layla-- Well, if it was Layla, they wouldn’t be wasting time on her dissertation. 

The drinks after dinner, though, were reassuringly terrible. They tasted like something Zach would have mixed when he was sixteen and had just figured out how to get at his parents’ booze.

That should have been a bigger warning sign than the food, actually.

Will still didn’t realize what was going on when he started feeling tired, tired enough to want to put his head down on the table. He blinked and shook his head.

“Will,” Warren said, “please, can you promise me that you’ll listen and think about things?”

Will blinked as Warren’s face doubled in his vision and Layla stood up. Warren waved at least a dozen hands at Layla to tell her she could sit back down. “Why wouldn’t I?” His voice sounded distant to his own ears.

“Just promise,” Warren insisted.

“Okay,” Will said, right before he passed out.

****

When Will woke, Warren was sitting next to him. “I was going to take you to the real base,” Warren said. “Layla hasn’t seen it yet, and I thought it would be nice to show you both at the same time, but she’s beyond pissed at me, and I haven’t quite figured out… some things.”

Will stared at Warren and tried to make his brain work. “Base? What? I thought Layla wasn’t going to be a hero and that we didn’t have money for a base.” There was something he was forgetting. Something important. Something-- He went completely still as he started to remember.

“She’s not.” Warren looked away, and Will realized that something was really wrong. Warren sounded as if those two words should explain everything. “We didn’t, not without Dad’s money. I don’t want you knowing where we’ll be unless--” Warren shook his head. “When she’s sure she’s right-- Well, you’ve known her longer than I have.”

“What the hell did you do? Real nouns and verbs.” Will’s head felt too large and empty, like a balloon that hadn’t stopped expanding. He knew that should worry him more than it did. He raised a hand to touch his forehead and noticed that he was wearing a very familiar looking bracelet-- A power suppressor. “Warren--” He heard the slight edge of panic in his voice.

Warren put a hand on Will’s arm. The contact was light enough that Will could shrug it off easily even without his superstrength. “You’re safe. I promise. You know me better than that, right?”

Will had thought he did.

“Layla’s being Layla,” Warren said softly. “I-- I’m worried that that with you being you will wreck all three of us. Us as individuals in addition to us as us.”

Will looked at him blankly.

Warren frowned then he sighed. “Sorry, Will. She’s heading for-- kind of a super-eco-terrorist? Ending pollution, deforestation, species loss, and global warming, all that shit. I’m pretty sure she’s after labor conditions, too, and universal health care and fuck if I know what all. It’s not like I’ve asked for a list.” He scrubbed one hand over his face. “I tried to come up with a way to divert her, but--” He shrugged. “I can’t, so I’ve got to make sure she’s okay. She knows her powers, she knows the science--” Warren’s expression said that he understood that she actually might not. “She doesn’t know how to survive when everybody’s hunting her. She hasn’t got money. She… Well.”

As Will started to understand, he swallowed a string of curses that his mother wouldn’t have approved of. Then he remembered that Warren wouldn’t care. Will’s mother wasn’t there, after all, and he was old enough to realize that she couldn’t solve this problem, not the part about keeping Layla safe. He was too terrified for Layla to be able to do anything but shake his head and then swallow hard as his stomach rebelled.

“There isn’t another way for Layla.” Warren tapped the suppressor on Will’s wrist. “I thought this might… Well, you’re more flexible than she is.” He didn’t actually sound like he believed it, more like he hoped desperately that he could make it be true. “The drug-- You should be fine in another hour. When Dad used it on the Commander, it didn’t last that long, and it didn’t hurt him.”

Will wasn’t even surprised that Warren thought that the way to help Layla not destroy herself was by putting a power suppressor on Will. _It would do more good--_ But Will knew it wouldn’t because they were talking about Layla, so he closed his eyes because he really couldn’t look at Warren any longer. He thought he remembered dinner and then-- “You made me promise.” He couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice. He hadn’t thought anything could be worse than somebody dying. 

Warren and Layla would still be around. He just wouldn’t be with them. _Not unless I--_

“Layla’s kind of… Well, she’s not going to forgive me for a while. I didn’t ask her. She’d have said no, and she didn’t know I knew. She knows-- I think she knows-- I’m right because she didn’t end up killing me, but she doesn’t want me to be right because she had a plan. A shitty one but a plan. We’re both supposed to be able to go on without her and be fine while she changes the world with sheer willpower. She’s got that martyr thing going on.” Warren sounded as if that explained everything, and Will supposed it did.

She had graduated as Hero Support. Because she couldn’t endorse the system. Because taking a stand mattered even if it cost her.

Will knew, too, that Layla was the reason that their particular class didn’t actually have any sidekicks working in the field. It could have been looking at Mr. Boy and Stitches as the two options for where old sidekicks end up, but everyone knew it was Layla.

She wasn’t the only one pursuing a higher degree. Magenta hadn’t, but that was only because the things she wanted to learn were too fast changing for a structured program. Ethan had gone into medicine with a focus on emergency trauma response. Zach was still trying to decide between law and some sort of specialized librarian-ish research work that Will didn’t understand entirely but that sounded useful. 

More useful, anyway, than standing next to some hero just to hand him the right tool for killing giant mutant chickens or whatever and then making sure the press only photographed his good side. Part of Will really wanted to follow that line of thought because it led away from where he was and from what Warren was saying.

Will was starting to feel properly connected to his body again, and he really wished he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if the nausea was from the drug, whatever it had been, or if it was a reaction to the betrayal. He didn’t think either Warren or Layla would hurt him, not physically, but if they could figure out how to take him somewhere else, he couldn’t stop them. 

He couldn’t stop them, either of them, from doing any of this. “Warren-- I think I’m going to hurl.” It wasn’t what what he’d meant to say, but it was true.

It took Warren a moment to respond, but he got Will to his feet and down the hall to the toilet before the inevitable happened.

Will was pretty sure he couldn’t have gotten there on his own.

Once Will was sitting on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall, Warren got Will water, letting Will see him fill the cup from the tap and then taking a sip himself before offering Will the cup.

Will thought that that was unnecessary, but he didn’t say anything. They both knew that Warren had betrayed Will’s trust. Will wanted to think that Layla hadn’t, but he was starting to suspect that she had. It just hadn’t been as obvious.

Dealing with Warren was better than looking at that.

When Will took the cup, Warren said, “Layla and I spent a while yelling at each other after-- After you fell asleep. She pointed out that I didn’t think-- You’re just really fucking hard to kidnap, you know? I didn’t think that we could do it after you knew, and you needed to know from us before you figured it out, before we did anything you couldn’t forgive. Just disappearing would be worse.”

Will managed a glare, but he was afraid that, if he said something, Warren would take it as forgiveness. Or as permanent rejection. He bit his lip, then drank the water to buy himself time. Once it was gone, he realized he really was thirsty.

Warren took the cup and refilled it when Will held it up. “I just… You do things irrevocably without looking at all the factors.”

And Warren didn’t? 

Maybe the two of them together could convince Layla-- Will swallowed hard in an effort to force his stomach to settle. Even he knew that wouldn’t work. “How long?” he asked. He wasn’t even sure which period of uncertainty he was asking about.

Warren looked away. “Layla said only long enough for her to get away, that you and I will be okay after. It’s bullshit, but it’s what she thinks is right. I… I thought that the rest of our vacation would be long enough for you to decide, and I talked her into that. I think she knows I’m going with her no matter what.

“After, we can leave you here, and you call your mother to get the suppressor off. Or we all three leave, somehow, with you still wearing the suppressor. Or we leave easier because you’re really all in with us.”

“Layla’s not going to finish her dissertation.” For some reason, that was the point that Will’s mind fixed on first. The rest was too hard. 

Once everyone knew Layla was a supervillain-- Too many people knew her real name, knew where to find her. She couldn’t-- 

That line of thought wasn’t going anywhere Will wanted to be, so he gave up on it.

Warren snorted. “Because the title means so much more to her than the knowledge.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s doing it for _access_ to more knowledge.” Their eyes met as they shared their understanding of the woman they both loved.

Warren leaned against the wall. “You doing better?” He obviously wasn’t just asking about the physical.

“Still pretty sick,” Will answered honestly. He thought the betrayal hurt worse than the physical discomfort. The physical would end, eventually. Warren was always going to have betrayed him. He wanted very badly to put his fist through the wall, but he knew that the walls had been built to stand up to his father’s superstrength. _Which I no longer have. I’d break my fucking hand._

“Yeah.” Warren scrubbed a hand over his face. “Layla’s going to be even more pissed at me.”

That wasn’t actually a request not to tell her. Will wasn’t sure if that should matter, but he noticed it. Then he remembered that Layla had given Warren permission. After the fact, yes, but still permission. 

He distracted himself by speculating as to what Warren meant by saying ‘leave, somehow.’ All he could think was that Warren must have a helicopter and pilot on call because Warren wouldn’t have come here without planning for a way out, no matter what he was saying to Will. Which might mean Warren meant it when he said that he-- that _they_ \-- might leave Will behind. For a moment, Will couldn’t breathe.

“It didn’t make your dad sick.” Warren sounded almost plaintive which made Will pretty sure that Warren was trying to play him. Warren didn’t do plaintive.

Warren slid down the wall to sit across from Will. “I am sorry, you know. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but-- I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Or maybe Warren wasn’t. That really sounded like pain. 

Will squeezed the glass in both hands and was a little surprised when it didn’t shatter. He tried to convince himself that that was a good thing, but he couldn’t. He set the glass down. 

“I just didn’t think that you could stand being one of _those_ heroes. Or that we could ask you to. And I couldn’t let her go off alone. Not once I realized she was going to.” Warren closed his eyes. “Think about that.”

Will didn’t want to, but he also couldn’t stop. He shook his head to dislodge thoughts of what might happen to Layla and made himself focus on the other part. Romance between heroes and villains wasn’t unheard of, but the heroes involved were considered tragic figures, jokes, or ticking bombs. Sometimes all three. 

Will tried to imagine fighting Warren and Layla during the day and then going home to them at night. He couldn’t pretend that they kept capturing him, either. Even Zach wouldn’t believe that.

Which probably wasn’t fair to Zach, who had matured considerably in the last decade.

Will wished for more water and tried to find an alternative to tragedy. He rubbed his left hand over the power suppressor. That was what Warren offered instead. Thinking about the price of that was like falling away from Sky High before he discovered he could fly. 

“Mom and Dad would destroy you for--” Will couldn’t find the words, so he waved a hand to indicate every single possibility. “Because I couldn’t. Even if I had to, I couldn’t. But I also-- I can’t. I can’t be ‘all in’ for this.” He knew it was really true as he said it. He wanted them safe. He wanted them happy. He couldn’t fight them, couldn’t stop them, couldn’t join them. He was caught between things he couldn’t do. “No way forward.”

“Just think about it. Please.” Warren fixed his eyes on the wall over Will’s head. “If I’d just told you, you’d have taken off, and… I don’t think you’d let yourself come back.”

Will hesitated because Warren was right.

“I know it’s a lot to ask.” Warren looked directly at Will, his face showing clearly that he had a very good idea of how much he was asking. “Layla said I could ask. Once she made sure you were breathing and stopped trying to kill me.” He cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure that she’d just let you go right now, without any idea how we’d get away. If that’s what you want. If you tell her that’s what you want.”

It was an open door that led straight to Hell. Will didn’t have an answer.

“She’s still Layla.”

Will sighed because he was also still who he was and Warren who he’d always been. None of it actually helped.

“I don’t know how this will change us. Any of us.” Warren looked tired, really tired.

And kind of scared. For the first time in years, Will made himself really look at what it meant that Warren’s father was a villain. 

Will wasn’t his father and never would be. Was Warren going to be his father? Will wouldn’t be surprised if Warren expected to be and was just accepting it as the price of… this. Will was pretty sure that Warren didn’t want to go that way, but that knowledge only made Will feel a little better because this was the path Warren had knowingly chosen. 

“I don’t know if I can, Warren.” Will tried to keep his voice even and gentle. His hands clenched, and he forced them to relax.

“Your parents don’t have to know.” Warren didn’t sound like he thought that was the real problem.

Will swallowed hard. “Eventually, someone’s going to get hurt.” Someone would die. Because Layla wouldn’t stop. Because Warren wouldn’t stop her. Because Will couldn’t stop either of them. “It’s wrong.”

“It’s pretty inevitable.”

Will thought that was the other part of Warren’s decision. Warren couldn’t let Layla face that alone. Could the two of them successfully support each other without Will? They were both strong, but Warren was kind of shit at saying no to Layla.

“I’ll… think about it.” Will knew he couldn’t offer more. He hoped Warren understood the subtext. _I can’t help. I don’t know if I can even watch and pretend it’s okay._

Warren turned his head to look away. “Be sure. Please. Eventually, we won’t be people who could let you go.”

Because Warren thought he’d be his father. Will nodded even though he knew Warren couldn’t see. “I know.” The words were the barest whisper, and Will was never sure, after, if Warren had heard. _You won’t be. I won’t let you be._

Will felt sick again because that was the choice right there. He wasn’t likely to find a way around it.


	2. Chapter 2

Will ran it around in his head over and over, trying to find a different answer than the one he’d found while sitting on the bathroom floor and wondering if he’d ever stop feeling like shit. He was pretty sure that Warren knew he wasn’t getting his first choice solution any more than Will would.

But Warren was right about the only possible compromise, so Will found himself trying to figure out how to make Layla understand. She wasn’t going to like it, and she wasn’t going to see that all the other options would destroy Will. 

In the end, he resorted to bluntness.

He rubbed his left hand over the suppressor on his right wrist and took a deep breath. Then he pulled out the chair across the table from where Layla was working on her laptop. He knew that she'd seen him coming, but she didn't look up until he tapped the suppressor on the table.

The look she gave him was a lot like the part desperate, part sad looks Warren had been giving him for the last four days. Layla had been very careful not to say or do anything that might influence Will one way or another. She'd also glared at Warren any time he went near Will or even opened his mouth, so the last few days had been pretty lonely.

Not that Will really wanted to talk to Warren about anything that mattered, but they could have watched a movie and argued about the special effects. Or something. Anything that would let Will forget for a little.

Layla’d locked up the liquor the day after Warren betrayed Will. Not very long after Will got well and truly smashed. He didn't think he'd have gone that way again anyway because not having his powers changed that, too. The hangover had been brutal, and he was nearly certain he'd lost time.

He really didn't want to think about what he might have said to Layla when he was plastered.

“I know we still have two weeks,” he told her, “but you and Warren are going to need that time.” He met her eyes. “I can't-- All the choices suck. I can't stay behind, and I can't go out and… do that with you and Warren. I can't.”

Layla closed her laptop. “I wouldn't ask you to. I don't want you-- or Warren-- hurt. I thought you'd have each other.” She sounded both apologetic and determined. “Now… I didn’t realize the resources he has. If I have those, maybe it’ll be fast and clean and--”

But she’d go on anyway. Supervillains didn’t stop. They couldn’t. Not even Layla. 

Will sighed. “I should have noticed. I'm kind of terrible at that, though, so I'm sorry.” He looked at his hands. “If nothing else, the last few days have been proof that being without you guys is miserable. I know you're trying to let me decide, but what you want matters too.” She looked at him blankly, so he put it more bluntly. “I know what Warren wants. What do you want?”

Layla shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, actually, it does.” His right hand clenched. “It's not all Rightness and Necessity. You're a person, not just a set of powers.”

She closed her eyes. “I want to fix everything.” There was a steadiness, a certainty in the words that felt like a knife to Will because it killed his last hope that she’d change her mind. “I-- I want you and Warren, too,” she added softly. “And I want good people to help me, but-- I can’t ask that of anyone.”

Which was why Warren would. Will hadn’t forgotten that Warren had mentioned some sort of secret base that Layla hadn’t seen yet. Will was pretty sure Warren was just doing it without asking questions, working around Layla’s instinct to refuse. Will still wasn’t quite ready to look at what was likely to happen to Layla without Warren. “People are going to get hurt.”

Her face set in grim lines. “I know.”

“That makes you a villain.”

“If I could think of another way,” she answered, managing both wistfulness and steel in the words. “I’ve tried, but I can’t. Humans won’t survive unless the world changes incredibly fast. I looked for alternatives. I studied so I’d understand what’s happening. Hands on, right _now_ , is the only way. Some people won’t survive. It’s not that they don’t deserve to; they’re just unlucky.” Her face set in the sort of harsh lines Will had never seen there before. “I would trade you, Warren, everyone I know, to make this work.” 

Will believed her.

She met Will’s eyes. “Warren and I should have left already, so that you could--” She shook her head.

“Layla.” Will made his voice as sharp as he could in order to cut her off. After a few seconds of silence, he found the words. “You do realize,” he told her, “that I could take this thing off in ten minutes, tops, right? Five if I find the right screwdriver.” He straightened in his seat, pretty much daring her to disagree. “Figuring that out took just long enough for me to realize that I needed to think, to decide.” He’d become much less angry at Warren once he understood that. He hadn’t forgiven him and probably wouldn’t for a long time, but he wasn’t quite as angry.

Will looked away for a moment before meeting Layla’s eyes again. “You’re going to need something better than this--” He tapped the suppressor on the table. “--if you’re going to hold me.”

“I have something,” Warren said from the doorway.

From the look on Layla’s face, she hadn’t realized he was listening either.

Will looked at Warren and tried to keep bitterness off his face and out of his voice. “Of course, you do.” _Because it’s the logical next step._ He sighed. “I need plausible deniability. Just in case.” He could tell that Warren knew what he was talking about and that Layla didn’t. “Layla, we may want kids some day. Adopted or… not.” And if he didn’t wear the damned thing, he was going to start helping them eventually because he'd forget why he couldn’t bear to use his powers to help them, why that part hadn’t even been a choice for him. 

He really hoped he wasn’t losing too much of himself by deciding not to fight them. He probably wasn’t losing more than Warren was, but that was small comfort.

He found some additional comfort in telling himself that his refusal could be useful if the worst happened. Will Stronghold, son of Jetstream and The Commander, victim of kidnapping by supervillains he’d thought were friends, could do a hell of a lot of things that Will Stronghold, collaborator, couldn’t. Possibly not for Warren and Layla but maybe for someone else. Whoever else there might eventually be.

Layla and Warren wouldn’t get caught. They couldn’t. 

Will didn’t actually believe it, not entirely, but it wasn’t absolutely impossible that they could pull it off. “I assume you’ve erased the Sky High records?” He was looking at Layla, but he was asking Warren.

“It’s set to happen after we go,” Warren replied.

Which was as good as saying that Magenta was helping. Part of Will was pleased, but more of him grieved for another friend going the wrong way.

“It won’t just be us. It’ll be all the records for a few years to either side.” Warren sounded both as if he was pleased with himself over it and as if he felt guilty about feeling pleased under the circumstances.

Will looked at the table. “This isn’t right.” He suspected he’d say it a lot over the coming months, the coming years. They were looking at years. He sighed. “And none of us can do anything else.”

“No,” Layla said. It was more protest than denial of fact. “No.” She clearly knew it was true.

Will wasn’t ready to argue with her. Instead, he turned to Warren. “How does the new suppressor come off?” He still trusted Warren enough to be sure that it would.

Warren’s smile only looked a little forced. “Thumb print or voice command. Mine or Layla’s.” His smile became more real. “I thought ‘Poison Ivy’ for the voice command.”

Layla gave him the finger. “We might actually need to say that. Maybe in Chinese?”

Warren shook his head. “You never get the tones right.”

Will could tell they were set to bicker, and while that would ease the tension, he wasn’t ready to deal with it. “Put some numbers after it. 1-2-3 will do it. You’re not going to say that accidentally, and it’s still easy to remember.”

They both stared at him.

“What? I’m still going to have opinions.” He swallowed hard. “I… I just want it over.” He meant the period when he had a choice, when he could still change his mind, and he was pretty sure they knew it. “Please?”

Warren looked at Layla, and she looked back.

“Oh, hell no,” Will said. “You two do not get to keep shunning me because you think I can’t fucking make a choice.” He let his anger and pain into that and saw it hit home for Layla.

“Will--”

Will shook his head. “All the way in or all the way out, Layla. Fighting you would hurt less than-- Than being your prisoner without… fringe benefits.” He knew he couldn’t bend on this. He couldn’t-- wouldn’t-- give up his powers, his ethics, and his freedom for anything less.

Warren didn’t look even slightly surprised, and Will wanted very badly to punch him.

Layla looked deeply unhappy.

“You will always let me say no.” Will put every ounce of his belief in that into the words. He didn’t plan to let them change that much, and, if they did--- _By that time, I doubt that saying no will occur to me._ He let the thought sink into the depths of his mind in the hope that it would never emerge again. He wasn’t planning to lose them that way, either. Will pushed back his chair and stood. “Think about it.” He kept his eyes on Layla. “I trust the two of you.” His eyes slid sideways to fix on Warren. “Damned if I know why.”

Warren winced, and Will knew that he realized that Will was still angry, but Warren couldn’t have expected anything else.

Will shook his head. “Layla, Warren’s going to do whatever you say is right, so it’s up to you. I’ve told you what I want.” He choked a little on that last word because he didn’t want this. It was simply that the not wanting was less powerful for this option than for any of the others. “I’m going to pack.”

Because either way, none of them would be staying much longer.


End file.
